Skepticism

EVENTS

The important things in life

Luis Martinez stopped at the Subway sandwich shop and ordered this thing they call a Philly Cheesesteak…and he ordered it with ketchup. The Subway worker, Lawrence Ordone, objected.

"That’s when I flew off the handle," said Ordone.

"He shoved a chair to the side, like knocked it down to come at me, and I said, ‘This is going to be serious,’" said Martinez.

"I said, ‘Let’s go, fight me like a man,’" said Ordone.

"I was scared. Next thing, I’m thinking a gun’s going to come out," said Martinez.

Ordone said he blocked the customer so he couldn’t get out.

"He threatened to kill me in front of my wife," said Martinez.

These are important issues that a man should engage in battle over: everyone KNOWS that a true Philly cheesesteak is served with ketchup and fried onions. The abomination that the Subway serves lacks both. And now we have learned that Subway employees are willing to fight to the death to preserve their heresy.

Oh, and American cheese? Pffft. It’s supposed to be Cheez-Whiz.

By the way, Ordone was fired — Subway apparently objects to their employees assaulting customers. They still, however, refuse to serve ketchup.

Why this is a bigger problem than misogyny and racism and homophobia combined! Finally, PZ, finally you have pulled your head from your ivory tower, PC, thought police feminazi arse and started to focus on the REAL issues.

Next I hope that you’ll discuss the details of the Grand Slam and why double bacon just isn’t enough.

Louis

P.S. Do I need a…? Yes, yes I probably do. For those of a sarcasm-blind nature, either by dint of lack of ability or presence of unfortunate ideology, I am taking the piss. Not serious. Mocking the fools who recently (recently?!) dismiss serious problems with trivia of their own. Don’t get me wrong, the bigfoot-sceptics have work to do, but it’s not as important as scepticism about social mechanisms etc. Or the bacon limit on important foodstuffs in the USA.

Imagine my surprise when my wife and I arrived in Brazil and found that they eat their pizza with mayo. And yet not once was I aroused to feelings of violence! Let this stand as a plea for culinary tolerance!

Cheese was a scarce resource indeed on the Pliocene savannahs of Africa. The particular condiment a caveman’s cavewoman put on his daily gnusteak-n-cheese sammich was an important marker of tribal identity. Cavemen were routinely flint-shivved for much less. It’s in our genes.

On some level*, I could understand the customer getting a little irritated at the lack of ketchup, but what they hell does the “sandwich artist” care what someone gets on their sandwich? Maybe he thought the customer was fucking with him intentionally?

*Grilled onions and mushrooms, sriracha, mozzarella cheese, and a pickle on the side. There is no substitute.

Former Philly resident here. For what it’s worth, while the original cheesesteak places Pat’s and Geno’s) use cheez-whiz, most places in Philly serve them nowadays with provolone or white American. Provolone, imo, is the best because it allows you to taste the meat better, unlike whiz, which overwhelms the taste buds and gets really messy. I like them with just a little bit of fried onions. No peppers and certainly no ketchup. People who get them with tomatoes or lettuce, are crazy, but it’s not something I would get into a fight over.

There’s a restaurant I’ve gone to a few times that has a notation on its menu: “Please do not order a steak well-done.” It’s nice that they wrote “please,” but how I want my steak is my own damned business, guaranteed under the religious freedom provisions of the First Amendment. And bring me ketchup, too! (I’m willing to pretend I want them for the fries, if it’ll make anyone feel any better. I’m not a fanatic.)

“He wants ketchup on the Philly cheese steak and I have never put — we don’t even have ketchup at Subway — I’ve never put ketchup on anybody’s sandwich,” said Ordone.

Martinez said he didn’t want the sandwich without the ketchup and that a man next to him in line offered to buy the sandwich.

[…]

Ordone said he was fired from his job Wednesday, and that he is baffled the confrontation started over something as simple as ketchup.

“There’s ketchup three aisles down. You can go buy your own ketchup, and I promise to God, you can put as much as you want on it and nobody’s going to say nothing,” said Ordone.

Now, Ordone’s reaction still seems to be way too strong… but I can see why people would be frustrated for making a sandwich, and then have the customer say they don’t want it because of a lack of a specific condiment. Particularly at Subway, where you don’t order the whole thing at once, but rather do it in steps, so by the time you get to condiments, the sandwich is already made.

On the other hand, another customer did offer to buy the sandwich, so… I dunno. But based on the article, it seems less “weird randomness” and more “straw (sandwich?) that broke the camel’s back” kind of situation.

Just listened to the interview with Ordone. According to him, he didn’t fly off the handle because the customer wanted ketchup, he flew off the handle because Martinez was angry and he started trash talking him. He then blocked Martinez from leaving because Martinez said something he interpreted as a threat to come back with a gun. He also claims he never threatened to kill Martinez, but did challenge him to a fight. Martinez also reports feeling afraid, not only about a gun coming out then, but about the fight coming to his house and him being attacked at home with a gun. It must be a pretty scary place to live, when a customer service issue could credibly escalate into a gun fight.

it just goes to show you WE really do need more concealed carry laws so citizens can protect themselves when going about their lawful business. Because when you want catchup you want catchup!
uncle frogy

I once ordered a hamburger while i was in a certain country on the opposite side of the equator. The employee asked if I wanted beet root on it. Ketchup is an abomination, beet root is almost a declaration of war.

Oh wow, I’m gonna try me some beetroot in a burger. I like burgers, I love beetroot. Why haven’t I put them together before. D: I didn’t know ketchup and pizza was weird either. I wouldn’t put it directly on and all over the pizza, because it would get all warm and ewwy, but as a dip and especially for crusts, I like it. The grossest-to-me thing I ever saw was a spaghetti bolognese sandwich with mayo in Tesco.

Wow, I was scrolling back and saw Josh’s comment about mayonnaise, and was thinking “mmmm sriracha sauce, maybe I should make a hot dog” and I think I just invented srirachannaise. I mean, if people can make mustard+mayonnaise (which is actually good!) why not srirachannaise? Has anyone tried this before? I’d ask The Oatmeal except he’s too buried to read emails unless they’re from Charles Carreon.

shouldbeworking –
I’d say you missed a chance at a fabulous taste experience. On this coast of USA, we can’t get an Australian hamburger unless we make it ourselves. About a decade ago in the “big city” there was a good restaurant (no longer there) which specialized in steak and lamb but at lunch offered the complete Australian hamburger: beef patty topped with fried egg, slice of pineapple, slices of pickled beets, fried onions, and bacon.

I still dream of that lunch. Total package of savory, salty, a little sweet, a little spicy, a little earthy … could not remove any of the elements and still retain its perfection.

I bet even a Philly cheesesteak would be improved by the complex flavor of pickled beet slices, And cut the grease a little, too.

Cheese steak with kimchee is also good. I used to work at this hospital that was near a really weird korean deli that seemed to specialize in putting kimchee in anything. It’s good on a hamburger, too.

I personally think that ketchup makes any food except Kraft Dinner worse. That said, a restaurant in a ketchupivorous country not having the National Condiment? Weird. It would be like getting a coffee in Turkey and their not letting you put sugar in it.

I mean, if people can make mustard+mayonnaise (which is actually good!) why not srirachannaise? Has anyone tried this before?

After your first comment, I was going to recommend whole-grain horseradish mustard with the sriracha. I don’t know about hot dogs, but it’s good with all sorts of stuff. I’ve never had to name it. I dub it “Razor Sauce.”

It’s my understanding that the big names in Philly cheesesteaks prefer the provolone. Having tried the Cheez Whiz, I am forced to conclude that it’s good on a cheesesteak pizza, but vastly overrated on the sandwich.

Ketchup is no longer the number one American condiment. From Wikipedia:

Over time, consumers preferences turned toward Mexican foods, such as salsas, and in 1991, Mexican sauces overtook ketchup as the top-selling condiment in the United States in total dollar sales, with Pace Picante sauce and salsa taking the lion’s share of the market.[4]

Proper Philly cheesesteak must turn the brown paper bag translucent with fat from what I remember from my time living in the USA ~18 or so years ago.

IIRC it should be provolone, fried onions, fried mushrooms, fired peppers and A1 sauce. Any deviation from this formula is to be punishable by death. Minimum.

Apparently. Or so I was informed by my Cultural Attaché who was informing me about many wonderful aspects of the USA by taking me to places and proceeding to get very drunk with me. First place he ever took me he said was really classy, a proper slice of American life, a real insight into the American Dream and the way it was over there.

We went to Hooters in Buffalo.

In my defence I only noticed what Hooters is (presumably) famous for after some wings. We’d been to a few bars beforehand and my observation skills were mildly dulled. I couldn’t quite work out what all these rather attractive women were doing being strangely nice to me for, or why they were wearing the same outfits. Still, they had beer with them whenever I saw them, which seemed really very nice of them as I hadn’t (yet) paid them for any of it. I guess I wasn’t so much sexist as drunk out of my mind!

Pteryxx@38:
I am going to be the Black Shoop of the Horde then, cuz no mayo goes into my belly. Sriacha is good though.
Ketchup mixed with mustard on burgers or hot dogs. Occassionally, I put BBQ sauce on a burger.

I’ll take your word for it — I’m a cat person. The very idea of buying Cheez Whiz (or Slim Jims, or SPAM, or bologna….. any of that shit) fills me with revulsion. I really shouldn’t get so worked up about it, but we all have our peccadillos, I suppose.

I’ve never understood why people get so bent out of shape over how others eat certain things. That being said, I’ve never even heard of ketchup on a steak and cheese, doesn’t sound like something I’d enjoy though. I do however put it on hot dogs and burgers. Dammit, now I want a burger.

It’s a good thing that Martinez didn’t have a gun on him, or this could have ended really badly.
Honestly, if somebody attacked me over condiments, I’d assume my life was at stake. If they’re willing to go that far for so little, I’d have a hard time imagining what they wouldn’t do.

Mayonnaise is good on french fries. The only condiments allowed on hot dogs are mustard and pickles (chili and sauerkraut are not condiments). Ketchup is acceptable on hamburgers but I’d rather go without (pickles, mustard, lettuce and tomato adorn my hamburger if I have any say in the matter). Marmite and vegimite are not food but industrial waste.

Wife and I just made a batch of deviled eggs. Used mayo and two different kinds of mustard, some smoked salt, some butcher grind pepper and sweet pickles. Sprinkled some sweet Hungarian paprika over the top.

This friend of mine was, in his defence, joking. His lauding of Hooters was ironic. (Unlike another American chum of this time who bemoaned the clean up of Times Square NYC for reasons too vile for even me to go into)

We went elsewhere to get good wings which, perhaps unsurprisingly were available in Buffalo. We never returned to Hooters.

I make one with fermented peppers and one without. Sadly I don’t grow the peppers myself. I haven’t whipped up a batch in ages, and I’ll have to wait until the peppers are in season again. I’ve always wanted to make a smoked pepper version, but I don’t have a smoker. Although now my wife and I have moved into our new house, we do have room for a small smoker in the garden….

As for exchange, well, nothing grows on this sauce! Hell, nothing grows NEAR this sauce! It’s got the Scoville level of bear mace (okay not really, but you know where I’m going). I made two general kinds, a very hot but flavourful one for eating, and a ludicrous one for use when my Indian in-laws play silly games involving machismo. They do it occasionally and I have to introduce them to their limits, after a couple of Chivas Regals they forget they have them.

The edible one is, in principle, quite easy to make. Make up a batch of the base sauce with various fruity chillies, hire Usain Bolt for an afternoon (he’s really very reasonable), equip dear old Usain with some thick black nitrile gloves and a metre long set of tongs and get him to run past the pot at full tilt with one chilli.

For the inedible version for machismo silliness, get him to run back past it one more time.

I do not remember what the stuff was called, but back in the mid-1970s, there was a hot sauce that one of my Navajo friends brought in which was both extremely hot and wonderfully flavoured. It was from Mexico, was green, and had garlic in it. No idea what it was, but it was fantastic. He ate it like it was ketchup (or catsup, or catchup, or ketsyup, or . . . ).

Yeah i don’t grow these either because the man who “invented” this pepper lives just around the corner and his entire yard is pepper plants. I am growing some other less incendiary peppers though. Hopefully going to try some ghost peppers and a few other this summer, though really pepper season is pretty much year round here in Charleston, SC so I’ll probably start in Feb .

I plan on doing a smoked version myself and as things have it, I got a brand new smoked for my birfday this year.

Chipotles…or any other variety of smoked peppers, FTW. They taste so DAMNED GOOD.

I like the ghost peppers for many reasons, but the Dorset Naga is grown round the corner from where I grew up. In English terms it’s a 2 hour drive and a bit of a pain, in American terms it’s next door! ;-)

Ah, yes, sambal oelek, I know it well. Every supermarket stocks it here, and I use it in copious amounts. It’s not very fermented in flavour, though I think I was mixing up conversations and got the wrong impression. I was expecting to hear about something a bit saucier & less pastier.

“He wants ketchup on the Philly cheese steak and I have never put — we don’t even have ketchup at Subway — I’ve never put ketchup on anybody’s sandwich,” said Ordone.

At the risk of treading on the undoubtedly important work of the law enforcement officers of Orange County, FL, this jumped out at me.

The only logical conclusions are that either Martinez is an asshole who asks for impossible combinations, or that Ordone is under-trained in the extent of Subway’s range of condiments. Since I only have an English Subway available to me to check (and who knows what they serve), could someone from Florida englighten me? (There is, of course, “the way he always does at places other than Subway“, but that seems assholic, too.)

toss with 2 parts sriracha 1 part honey add chopped cliantro if you like. Adjust ratio of sriracha to honey for more or less heat (even though these days sriracha is no longer really hot). Sprinkle with toasted sesame seeds.

Serve with pickled carrots and radish. Blue cheese still works with this.

Do not even think about ranch or Julia Childs will come back from the grave and waggle her finger at you. Ok maybe not.

Julia Childs will come back from the grave and waggle her finger at you

I fail to see how this could ever be a bad thing. She could drop your turkey on the floor, but … still; Julia Child!! (I’d try to get her to sign my Mastering the Art of French Cooking but for a discorporeal being, that might be a stretch.)

And I swear to something that if you pour soy sauce on white rice or *GASP* you dip your sushi into a ridiculous blend of soy sauce and wasabi you’ll be taken behind the chemical shed and SHOT. With a suction cup dart gun by someone wearing a clown nose.

Actually reading on wikipedia, it sounds like provolone was the original cheese on steak sandwiches. Anyways, whatever makes people happy doesn’t bug me.

Rev. BDC- thanks, we will definitely try that recipe. Sriracha is such the perfect sauce for hot wings. We go to a Korean BBQ place out here in LA (dang il hang) that gives you fried rice at the end of the meal mixed up with the grill juices and a couple large dollops of Sriracha. It is sweet, sweat-inducing delight.

I’m from Northern New Jersey and have had the pleasure of eating at both of the famous cheesesteak stands in Philadelphia. A Philly Cheesesteak is steak, cheese (melted provolone at one stand, Cheese-Whiz at the other) with the option of adding grilled onion. Any deviation from this recipe is custom, not a pure Philly. Ketchup is certainly not an ingredient in a Philly. However, in North Jersey all cheesesteaks have ketchup by default, and it is that variation to which I am most accustomed. No one there would call that a Philly though, because it isn’t.

TL;DR: There are many kinds of cheesesteak, but only one (technically two) Phillies.

I like ketchup on my hot dogs. I will even use catchup if ketchup is unavailable. What I really like is a Chilli Slaw Dog, hot dog with a run of chilli and slaw on top.
…
What I do not like, but will eat when I am with family, is that low country South Carolina mustard BBQ. I prefer, as all right thinking people do, western North Carolina BBQ, never eastern style. And a real abomination is that mayonnaise BBQ out of Georgia and Alabama. Don’t get me started on Texas.
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I have never had a real Philly cheese steak and wish I could afford the calories to find one I like in Philly.
…
Some of this is snark, some not.

What I do not like, but will eat when I am with family, is that low country South Carolina mustard BBQ. I prefer, as all right thinking people do, western North Carolina BBQ, never eastern style. And a real abomination is that mayonnaise BBQ out of Georgia and Alabama. Don’t get me started on Texas.

I live in Lowcountry central and I cannot agree more on the mustard based. Though I prefer Lexington style BBQ, I do and will eat eastern NC style and enjoy the hell out of it.

I have been assured by a very knowing American of my acquaintance in London, that a young healthy child well nursed is at a year old a most delicious, nourishing, and wholesome food, whether stewed, roasted, baked, or boiled; and I make no doubt that it will equally serve in a fricassee or a ragout.

Fry sauce is a condiment that should entertain both ketchup and mayo haters. It’s a roughly equal combo of each, apparently invented by Mormons who, deprived of adult pleasures like promiscuous sex, gambling and hot beverages, were reduced to mixing things together in the kitchen and daring each other to eat it.

I will say, however, that Mormons (along with some of the more conservative bible belt sects) seem to have been having a contest back in the 1970s and 1980s to see just how strange Jell-o salads can become.

I was going to make some rude remarks about some of the things mentioned in this thread, but then I remembered that I have, voluntarily and within the past 10 years:
1) eaten hot dogs more than once
2) eaten Philly cheese steak once (in Philadelphia)
and therefore have completely forfeited my right to malign any food or food-like product.

Now, Ordone’s reaction still seems to be way too strong… but I can see why people would be frustrated for making a sandwich, and then have the customer say they don’t want it because of a lack of a specific condiment. Particularly at Subway, where you don’t order the whole thing at once, but rather do it in steps, so by the time you get to condiments, the sandwich is already made.

On the other hand, another customer did offer to buy the sandwich, so… I dunno. But based on the article, it seems less “weird randomness” and more “straw (sandwich?) that broke the camel’s back” kind of situation.

You’re not seriously excusing this shit are you? This behavior is not acceptable at all.

This is most of a post from my old blog. You may notice some (well, a few, anyway) similarities to my current writing (lack of) style.

One of my good friends (hell, he was my best friend) was a universal deist (again, in high school, I know we didn’t know term, but he viewed the universe as God) who was also a member of a severely fundamentalist Christian church. During our friendship, I managed to avoid his various attempts at getting me into his church. Actually, it was his mother who tried to get me in there.

He and I went skiing up at Ski Liberty in Pennsylvania (crappy little ski area, but it was the closest one) on a Saturday. We got back late, so I just sacked out on his couch. The next morning, his mom made a big breakfast (home-cured country ham, eggs, home fries, scrapple, toasted home-made bread, home-canned cherry preserves, raw milk, home-made sausage, and fried hominy (and that was for five people)) and then announced that I would attend church with them.

I demurred, insisting that I needed to get home. She insisted. I tried to get out of it. She insisted. I said no. She said yes. I went. She found a shirt which fit (pink striped), a necktie (wide and striped (1970s tacky)), and insisted. I resisted. Futilely.

The church was a cute little wooden building in a grove of sycamore trees. And attached to the cute little church was a large cinder block monstrosity complete with a corrugated aluminum roof. The effect created by this juxtaposition was architectural chaos (the Church in the Wildwood mated with industrial crappy).

Inside the cute little wooden church were rows of burnt orange plastic chairs (the stackable ones you find at bowling alley lounges). The podium was cheap veneer with a giant silver plastic cross. Behind the podium, on the wall, hung another cross. This one done in gold-toned plastic.

I sat with my friend and his family about 1/3 of the way back. I quickly noticed that I was a topic of conversation. Nothing obvious, but everyone who came into the church looked my way, quickly looked away, and began talking amongst themselves while stealing furtive glances my way. It was obvious.

A few minutes before the service started, a cute little girl (age, about 5), in a miniature brides-maid outfit with way too much taffeta for a dress that size, came through and handed out Bibles to everyone there. I opened it and confronted, for the first time in my life, the tortured beauty of the King James Version Bible. Under the Bible was a stack of papers with the words for today’s songs. Well, I thought, at least there will be music so it won’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. The music sucked (and keep in mind that, at the time, my girlfriend was a twice-born and had taken me to Petra and Stryper concerts). Big time sucked. The organist (and it was not and organ, but a Casio keyboard set to ‘organ’) was almost competent. The choir (seven women and one man, all in their 90s (or older)) managed to be 1/4 step out of tune (both directions) the entire time, while still missing the beat by just enough to be annoying.

The sermon, however, was worth the trip. The sermon of the day was a discussion of sexual sin. He (the pastor) never actually said what, exactly, the sins were (other than being sexual in nature), but he breathlessly described the punishments. Eternity in a boiling lake of blood, eternal heat, eternal thirst (I suspect he had been exposed to Dante’s Inferno at some point). For eternity. For all of eternity.

I watched (without being too obvious about it) the reactions of the flock. Some sat, slack-jawed, following his every move about the foot-high stage. Some were breathing hard. Some had a look of joy on their face. One older woman (she was about 40 (which is, of course, no longer old to me)) actually began panting and, as the sermon reached a climax, she suddenly thrust her clasped hands into her lap, held them there, and shuddered. In retrospect, I think she had an orgasm (which is why QF’s comment brought this dreck out of the recesses of my mind (again, thank you)).

After a few more songs (still bad), a couple of prayers (including one asking for the death of Tip O’Neil (my first experience with imprecatory prayer)), a collection (I tossed in a dollar (which was a lot of money for an eighteen-year-old)) and a prayer for someone’s grandmother. Then, out to the Church Community Center for some food and drink.

The drink was weak iced tea, with pieces of mint (dried and re-hydrated in the tea) floating in amongst the ice cubes. The food was saltines, cheeze whiz (no, I am not kidding), a Jell-o and marshmallow salad, a Jell-o and fruit salad, and a Jell-o and fruit salad with nuts. I had a couple of crackers. No Jell-o. No cheeze whiz. No iced tea. Just crackers.

Which actually summed up my reaction to the entire church experience in my friend’s congregation. On the way home, his mom positively gushed over the music, the organist, the sermon. I kept a straight face. Crackers.

That was the first time I ever went to his family church. It was not the last. I had one more run-in with all of them.

No, I wasn’t trying to excuse it. And on re-reading the story, the confrontation was more serious than I’d originally thought, so hindsight being what it is, I probably shouldn’t have made that comment.

Ogvorbis, none of those Jell-o salads sound even mildly interesting to me. Then again, I’m from the Upper Midwest and have been to a lot of church potlucks. (Secretly I hope for the death of distant relatives because the funerals are the only times I get genyooine church-lady fruit fluff, Jell-o salad, and hot dish.)

—
Rev

Vegan cheese steak….

I’m going to have to bend a lot of laws of the universe to make that work.

You should accompany it with nothing other than appreciation for how carefully the sushi chef balanced the flavours. Drenching it in wasabi + soy sauce is more or less accepted in North America. Do it in Osaka, say, and you’ll earn a very hairy eyeball from the chef, and probably some surreptitious stares from the locals.

But to each their own. My own “enlightenment” in this topic was earned the unpleasant way.

on sandwiches:
Subway doesn’t have catchup in these parts. They just don’t. Catchup is for junk food, and Subway is healthy, dammit!

on sushi:
I like to put a small bit of sauce on my sushi, preferably away from the rice. My friends don’t give a shit and drench the rice on the stuff. Either way, none of us are Japanese and we don’t feel like pretending we are.

Scrapple – Take a freshly killed pig. Remove the parts that become pork chops, ham, butt, bacon, and tenderloin. Remove the ears, the trotters, the snout, and the tail. Remove the head. Put everything else (basically) into a big blender. Congrats you have scrapple. (The head becomes souse.)

I think I am living on the wrong Earth. Where I come from, these things do not exist (whatever they are).

Scrapple is assorted pig parts. Sort of. All of the unusable parts of pig are put into a big caldron with lots of water and boiled for and hour or two. Strain it to remove the big bits, add salt and cornmeal until it achieves the consistency of pudding. It can be sliced, dusted in cornmeal and fried (Maryland style) or cooked in a pan until it softens and is eaten as a pudding (Pennsylvania Dutch style (and anathema unto Nuggan).

Raw milk is milk that has not been homogenized.

Hominy is corn that has been soaked in water and lime (not the fruit) until all the nutrients are gone and then skinned. It is fried in lots of butter and is delicious empty calories.

Hominy is corn that has been soaked in water and lime (not the fruit) until all the nutrients are gone and then skinned. It is fried in lots of butter and is delicious empty calories.

The soaking-in-lime process (nixtamalization) makes the niacin in the corn more easily absorbable, so you’re actually making it more nutritious! Frying it in butter is just the reward for so cleverly thwarting pellagra, of course.

when I was an army cook I had to make some kind of dressing I do no longer what it was for but it was , mayo. bright yellow mustard, katchup and pickle relish in more or less equal parts. Very hard for me to do when the smell would hit me.

the only mustard I like these days is mustard flower and water either english or chinese I will pass on the katchup thanks.

@unclefrogy – That, minus the pickle relish, is the sauce my (rural Nebraskan) grandmother served over broccoli. I grew up on the stuff, and still sort of view it as comfort food. Horrible, abominable, comfort food.

“everyone KNOWS that a true Philly cheesesteak is served with ketchup and fried onions.”

Um, no. There is NO ketchup on a true Philly cheesesteak. It is sauce. Not ketchup. Not marinara. Cheesesteak sause. No exceptions.

Onions should be fried but can be raw for the newbies.

Cheez whiz is the norm. Provolone is also okay.

Most non-Philly folks up end up Pat’s or Geno’s (both are fine) but Jim’s is the place to verify this info. I’ve never seen ketchup ordered by a local. They would get beat up if they did. Same goes for (gasp) mayo. Blech.